and pay attention.”
“I’ve seen them already,” he said, reacting in a way he only ever did with this cat. “They’re nothing to moon over.” What they were, were ripe, succulent, perfect for biting. Her skin was the rich cream of a true redhead, dusted with a luscious hint of gold. It showed every kiss, every bite mark. He could still see the one he’d made last night—it took everything he had not to lean in, place his mouth over that mark, and suck.
“Yeah, same.” Her eyes dropped meaningfully before lifting. “Now that we’ve both got that out of our systems, can we get to work?” Sarcastic words, but her scent was a stroke against his senses, cutting through the perfume as if it didn’t exist.
His skin stretched tight over his body. But he was a lieutenant—and little Willow was relying on them to find her brother. “You take that side, I’ll do this one.”
With a nod, she walked away. He watched her move for a second before heading to do his own part of the job. He was used to working with a strong female—Indigo was his right hand in the pack. But where Indigo was calm and collected, a perfect complement to his practical personality, Mercy was red-hot passion.
He never argued with Indigo, not about anything personal. So the fact that Mercy was a powerful, dominant female had nothing to do with why he couldn’t be around her for more than two minutes without losing the cool that was as much a part of him as his status as Hawke’s most senior lieutenant.
Something scratched across his senses. Crouching down, he tried to follow the scent hidden in the miasma of fading perfume. It was there, a shiny thread but worn through, thin, so very, very thin. There, he caught it.
Metal.
His first thought was of the Psy. A lot of the ones in the PsyNet had a metallic edge to their natural scent that repelled changelings. This was similar but . . . too metallic. There was no life to it. And the Psy, for all their coldness, were still sentient, living beings. Following it across the room, he saw something lying on the floor below an end table. “Mercy,” he said softly, knowing she’d hear him.
“You got something.” She was beside him moments later.
“There.”
She crawled lower, her body brushing along his side. The wolf growled. And it wasn’t in rejection. Then she whistled. “I’ve seen one of those before. It’s the same as that chip thing the Alliance soldiers had in the backs of their necks when they tried to kidnap Ashaya.”
“I figured as much—I haven’t seen one but Bren described it to me.” His sister was a highly qualified tech, part of the team working with Ashaya Aleine to figure out the chips. This one, he saw, was still attached to a bloody hunk of flesh. “Ripped out. Nash?”
“I’m guessing.” She paused. “I know when my brothers used to sneak out when we were young, I always knew before my parents. Oldest sibling intuition. Maybe Nash was outside tracking Willow when they gassed the place?”
He had seen Mercy’s brothers around but now wondered what they were like. Redheaded hellions probably. “Makes sense. He steps out, escapes the gassing, comes back in because he hears something, and that’s when they attempt to grab him, not realizing there’s another kid out in the woods.”
Nodding, Mercy touched the floor and came away with a thin layer of dust. “He shifted. This is from his clothes disintegrating.”
Riley sniffed at the finger she held up. “I can scent denim.”
“You can?” She raised it to her own nose. “I can’t.”
He couldn’t help it—she brought out the wolf’s most wicked edge. “That’s because I’m older and stronger.”
She shot him an evil look. “As I was saying, Nash shifted. Most likely after he ripped that chip off.”
“Could’ve done it in animal form, too. Lynx are small and agile, especially when they’re pissed.” He barely resisted the urge to stroke his hand down the sweep of her back and
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